


Caged

by comealittlecloser



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alpha Derek, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe - BDSM, BAMF Stiles, Cat/Human Hybrids, Dom Derek Hale, Dom/sub, F/F, Fox Stiles, Hurt Stiles, Hybrid Stiles Stilinski, Kidnapped Stiles, M/M, Original Character(s), Scott McCall & Stiles Stilinski Friendship, Slave Stiles Stilinski, Slavery, Stiles-centric, Subspace
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-01
Updated: 2018-03-02
Packaged: 2018-12-22 12:26:39
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 4
Words: 10,023
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11967375
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/comealittlecloser/pseuds/comealittlecloser
Summary: Stiles is kidnapped and kept in a cage complex with eighteen other human teenage subs. He quickly befriends the strange Scarlett in the cage next to him, who helps him understand the human auction that they would be sold to an alpha in.Derek is an alpha looking for a sex slave. So is his business partner, Delia.





	1. From the Bottom of My Heart, What the Fuck

Stiles awoke groggily, feeling metal under his bare skin. It took a few moments for the memories of the last hours to come through the haze in his mind. When they did, he jumped up sharply, only to hit his head on even more metal, causing a screeching, rattling noise to pound against his eardrums. He groaned in pain, rubbing his head and squinting his whiskey eyes. ‘ _God dammit_ ’ he thought to himself as he realised he probably had a concussion, and had just made it even worse.

As he managed to open his eyes slightly and adjust them to the harsh white light, he examined his surroundings. Upon noticing that he was trapped in a barely large enough metal cage, his heart pounded in panic. He stretched his arms out as wide as they could go in the confined space, trying to keep himself stable and clutching his fingers desperately through the small squares of the cage.

The next thing he noticed through his fog of anxiety was that he was at a height. He gazed down at the linoleum floor below him. His erratic breathing made it hard to take in any details, and his eyes flicking around the room urgently didn’t make the matter any easier. He could scarcely make out glass display cases lining the walls, and a grand staircase exiting the room. Stiles looked down at his own body, seeing he was stripped to nothing but tight black underwear. He pulled on the collar around his neck dreadfully.

Amidst his panic, he began to hear wavy words from beside him. The voice was feminine and feigning softness. It muttered calming phrases like “it’s okay” and “just breathe”.

When he eventually gathered enough composure to face the voice, he was met with a girl about his age, trapped in the cage immediately to the left of his.

“You alright there?” she asked, knowingly, “Buddy, freaking out isn’t gonna fix anything.”

He miraculously calmed his breathing enough to be able to hear the girl. She remained kneeling with her fingers reaching into Stiles’ cage, concern etched into her features. He took the time to look her over, her appearance providing a few disconcerting clues.

The girl had pastel purple hair ending just below her shoulders. It curled slightly in satisfying spirals framing her face, which adorned one deeply bruised black eye. Velvety black cat ears sat atop her head.  Her neck was caught in a thick black collar, a chain running from the hook to the floor of the cage.

Moving his gaze downwards, he took in the outfit she seemed to have been forced into, if the creases and tears were anything to go by. She was wearing a lacy black brassiere, high-waisted black skater skirt, and a pair of dirty black knee socks. The main aspect that caught his attention, however, was the scruffy black tail peaking out from behind her, highlighted with purple streaks matching her hair.

“There ya go…just breathe.” She cooed to Stiles, watching the panic slowly drain from his face.

“Where are we?” He finally spoke through ragged breaths.

“I wish I could tell you,” the girl scoffed, “I’m Scarlett. Nice to meet you.”

“Oh- uh, I’m Stiles.” He responded, regaining his breath and finding a more comfortable position in his cage.

“Cool name.” She nodded appreciatively.

He smiled faintly in thanks, his attention stuck on Scarlett’s feline features. She seemed to notice, her tail flicking out of sight quickly, causing him to flinch.

“You got ‘em too, mate,” she informed him, gesturing behind him with her eyes.

He scrunched his eyebrows in confusion before turning to look behind him with hesitance. He jumped slightly upon seeing a fluffy fox tail stemming from his lower back. A new wave of panic washed over him as his attention was brought to flicking movement on his head. He brought his hands up swiftly, feeling two, just as fluffy, triangles peeking through his hair.

“What the fuck?!” He spun around to face Scarlett, moving as close as he could to her, as if that would get him the answers he wanted.

“Pretty weird, right?” she asked rhetorically when she had his attention, “I have a theory.”

“Care to elaborate?” Stiles prompted exasperatedly.

She chuckled slightly, moving to sit cross-legged, “I think it’s a vaccine, so that we can’t be turned. Side effects may include patronisingly adorable puppy features.” She finished with another giggle.

“They gave it to all of us.” She continued, pointing to the several cages underneath them, holding other barely dressed teenagers, all possessing ears and tails of different pet animals. Stiles hadn’t even noticed all the people below them in his panic.

“How many of us are there?” Stiles questioned incredulously.

“With you, twelve. And considering the eight empty cages next to us, I’m gonna take a wild guess and say they’re going for twenty.”

“Well this is just fan-freakin’-tastic.” He muttered to himself with a pout, slumping and running a hand through his hair, flinching upon feeling the ears again.

“Aw, come on, it’s not too bad,” Scarlett attempted to cheer him up, knowing how frightening waking up there was, “just keep asking me questions. Fire ‘em at me.”

Stiles eyed her over sceptically, but decided getting some answers would ease his strife. So he asked the girl, “Why do you think twenty? What about those twenty glass cases?”

“Those are for open days.” She answered, matter-of-factly.

“Open days? What are you-” He trailed off the last part of the sentence as he began to connect the dots with that sliver of information.

Scarlett looked on with a grimace and nodded slowly as the boy realised his fate. He had heard of human auctions before in rumours, but always thought they were just myths meant to scare him.

“It’s kinda like real estate,” she continued grimly, “they have scheduled open days where alphas can come inspect the goods. Even trial them, if they pay enough.”

Stiles was too disturbed to ask what she meant by that, knowing he wouldn’t want to know the answer. The distant look of regret in her eyes was the only information he needed.

“How long have you been here?” He changed the subject quickly upon seeing her distress.

She perked up, looking back at Stiles, “Well, if I calculated correctly, two weeks and three days.”

“How did you calculate?” He asked curiously, tilting his head.

“Meals.” She nodded at the empty trough attached to the back wall of her cage, next to a sipper water bottle, the kind used for hamsters. Stiles looked over to see an identical one in his space too.

“They give us three a day. Or so I think. If not, my guess is way off. Next meal is dinner, I believe.”

“Have you tried escaping?” was his next rapid question.

“How do you think I got this shiner?” She giggled, pointing at her black eye. “Believe me, I’ve tried everything, it’s not worth it.”

“There has to be something you haven’t tried,” Stiles replied, to which the girl shook her head, rolling her eyes faintly, “what about when they come to feed us?”

“They don’t. It’s automatic.” She answered, pointing to the machine running over head with her thumb.

“What about bathroom breaks? Showers?” He implored, leaning in closer, eyes widening.

“They take us one by one after breakfast and before dinner. It’s two alphas against one of us, dude. Again, not worth the try.” Scarlett responded, pointing sharply at her black eye.

“What if I tried knocking the cage over?”

“You don’t wanna find out what happens if you do that.” She warned with wide eyes.

“I accept that challenge.” He narrowed his gaze at her, moving to the back of the cage to get as much of a run up as he could.

He crouched at the very back, facing his right shoulder to the door. Licking his lips and sending a wink to Scarlett, who rolled her eyes again. With a shout he lunged at the cage door, throwing himself at it. His enclosure budged slightly.

Scarlett giggled at him, but stopped upon Stiles’ glare. She shut her eyes briefly, motioning for him to carry on.

“Just a few more…” He muttered getting into position again.

Before he could launch at the door again, however, he was stopped by an electric current coursing through him. Stiles let out a groan and collapsed to the cage floor, clutching at the collar radiating shocks.

“ **Number twelve** ,” a rumbling mechanical voice bled through a miniscule speaker somewhere in his cage, “ **Do _not_ try that again. You have been warned**.”

“Told ya.” Scarlett told the boy smugly, watching him writhe on the floor for a few seconds.

“…so attempt one failed,” he grumbled lowly, crawling back to a sitting position, “doesn’t matter. Hopefully attempt twelve will go a little better.”

“Oh, honey, no,” Scarlett chuckled, “as much as I admire your perseverance, you’re not gonna make it another eleven of those.”

“Watch me.”

“Whatever, it’s your funeral,” she shook her head in amusement, raising her hands in mock defence, “Any other questions?”

“Um- yeah I guess,” Stiles settled back against the right wall of his cage, which sat against the end of the cavern of imprisonment, “When’s the auction?”

“Dunno,” she shrugged, “once they get all twenty, I suppose.”

“You mean…they planned this. There’s a specific twenty?”

“I think so. So far the trend seems to be people whose disappearance would go unnoticed,” she chuckled nervously, rubbing the back of her neck, “all teenage orphans, all struggling financially, all subs.”

“But that doesn’t make sense,” Stiles interjected, shaking his head and running a hand through his hair, this time avoiding the ears, “My dad’s still alive, and my friends will definitely notice I’m gone.”

“Huh,” Scarlett huffed with her mouth open and a slight nod, “that makes you the first. If your friends are werewolves, maybe they’re trying to draw them out or something.”

“Well, fuck.” Stiles swore, rolling his head in exasperation.

“What? Who are your friends?” She questioned with a slight smirk.

“Scott McCall,” he fiddled with his fingers, gritting his teeth and averting his gaze as he mutters the last part to himself, “the true alpha.”

“Fuck. Let’s just hope he doesn’t come looking for you.”

“Why not?” Stiles squinted his eyes at the girl.

“Let’s just say…the people who took us, they’re not very nice to us, let alone people they’re jealous of. Like the true alpha.”

Stiles sighed and hit his head against his cage wall, realising he had been taken as bait yet again, which was actually the best case scenario in this situation. Unless he wanted to be bought as some perverted alpha’s play thing.

Scarlett and Stiles fell into a comfortable silence as he thought over his options, and she watched him scheme, having done plenty of that already. Stiles eventually turned his attention to the ten teens in the row of cages underneath them. Directly below his feet was a young girl with what appeared to be a bunny tail and ears, and under Scarlett was a lean blond boy with a monkey tail.

“Why are they all asleep?” He asked cautiously.

“They’re not,” Scarlett answered mournfully looking down at the other captives and then back to Stiles’ horrified face, before bursting out in laughter, “Jeez, I’m just kidding. They’re fine, they’ve just been put under subspace.”

“Why haven’t you?” Stiles continued questioning after getting over that minor shock and glaring at the girl.

“Cause I’m not a sub,” she answered, looking over her fingernails, “well, technically, I am, but the sheer force of my stubbornness gets me through. We had an open day before you showed up, so they’re still coming out of it.”

Stiles looked back to the sleepy teens under him, scared of what was to happen to them all. He watched their chests rise and fall steadily in their sleep, a few of them sucking their thumbs peacefully. The bunny girl was even kicking in her sleep, apparently dreaming.

“Don’t worry,” Stiles muttered to Scarlett, turning to look at her again, “My friends and I are gonna get us all out of here.”

Scarlett knew it was an empty promise, but let Stiles hold his hope. She nodded thoughtfully, sending him a thankful smile.

Their moment was interrupted by the whirring of the machine leading into the troughs. Stiles heard slops of wet food entering Scarlett’s, and clinks of dry food entering his. Even more peculiarly, a single plastic cup was dispersed into a small chain basket, containing his nightly dose of Adderall. He stalked over to the trough hesitantly, inspecting the dog food that had been left for him.

“Thank god, I am so bloody hungry.” Scarlett huffed out, crawling to her food, before noticing Stiles’ strange stare.

“Don’t look at me like that. A girl’s gotta eat,” she defended herself with a shrug, “Oh, and don’t use your hands.”

“Why not?”

“Cause they’re sick and perverted and wanna watch us eat like animals. And I’m assuming you don’t wanna be shocked again.” She answered with arched eyebrows, before sitting up on her hands and knees, one slightly ahead of the other and taking a bite of her food.

Stiles watched in fascination as the girl ate the cat food with no predisposition, occasionally taking sips from the literal hamster water bottle. She seemed to have adjusted to this lifestyle quickly.

“How are you so good at this?”

“…what do you mean?” She asked with a faint chuckle, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand.

“I mean- you’re completely okay with being treated like this,” Stiles explained, “How can you just eat and- and roll over and be content?”

He watched as her face fell slightly and she sank back on to her ankles. She gulped mildly and flicked a strand of hair behind her ears, looking down in contemplation. For a few moments, Stiles was afraid he had offended her. Until she answered.

“Believe it or not, I’ve been treated _much_ worse than this,” the girl replied, refusing to meet his gaze, “I’m used to moving around a lot- adjusting and adapting just comes naturally to me, I guess. This isn’t my first catastrophe.”

She finished with a shrug, keeping her gaze trained to the floor, before recovering with a quip and a giggle, “But you’re gonna have to reach _at least_ friendship level nine to unlock my tragic backstory.”

Stiles took a moment to register what he had just been told, as Scarlett went back to eating.

“You should stop shrugging so much, you know?” he started, raising his head to face her again, “You’re smarter than you give yourself credit for.”

She looked over in shock, but quickly masked it with yet another chuckle, saying, “You’d be surprised.”

With that, she went to take a sip from her bottle, unconsciously bringing a hand up to hold it. Almost immediately, Stiles heard the voltage from Scarlett’s collar. The girl fell back to her hands and knees, one hand trying futilely to tear the collar from around her neck. Stiles jumped to her side as she groaned in pain.

“ **Number eleven, you should know better. Behave.** ” The mechanical voice rumbled again.

“Are you fucking kidding me?!” Stiles shouted out to the room, rising to his knees in protest, his voice trembling in disbelief, before he too was shocked.

“ **Number twelve, swearing is not acceptable behaviour. Be a good boy.** ”

After a few moments, they both managed to rise from the floor of their separate cages, rubbing at the marks around their necks from the shocking.

“S-Sorry.” Scarlett stuttered out quietly.

“What the hell are you apologising for? That wasn’t your fault,” he observed her as she tucked her hair back behind her (human) ears and opened her mouth to protest, “How do they know I take Adderall?”

Scarlett closed her mouth and decided to ignore the sudden shift in conversation, “They do their research. They know what I take, too.”

Stiles followed with his eyes to where she nodded towards her own plastic cup holding a concoction of pills. She downed them quickly, this time remembering not to use her hands with the water bottle.

“How do you know they’re not giving us something else?” Stiles asked suspiciously.

“Well, they look and taste the exact same as the ones I usually take,” she shrugged again, before remembering that Stiles had pointed out her bad habit, “And I would have had withdrawals by now if they were anything different. Even if they did add something, I can’t afford to stop taking them.”

He gazed at her in contemplation, his fellow captive continuing to interest him. Perhaps his experience here wouldn’t be so bad while he waited for an escape opportunity.

“You should eat,” she interrupted his thoughts, “you won’t get another chance ‘till morning.”

“I think I’ll pass on the dog food.” Stiles responded with a grimace.

“It’s surprisingly not that bad. I dunno how, but I think the vaccine just enhanced traits we already had and made us like those animals biologically.”

“…maybe later.”

They sat in silence as Scarlett finished her ‘dinner’ and moved her tail about in satisfaction. She seemed to be unaware of it, as well as the shifting and flicking of the cat ears on top of her head. Stiles had to admit, it was pretty damn cute. When she had finished, she curled into a ball, her tail wrapping around her frail form.

“Nighty night, Stiles.” She whispered, causing him to look down at her curiously.

“You’re going to sleep?”

“Yeah, my sleeping pill knocks me out pretty quickly.” She mumbled with a yawn.

“Oh- Okay.”

There were a few moments of tense silence before Scarlett spoke up again, “You have to say it back, Stiles.”

“What?”

“I need you to say goodnight.” She slurred sleepily, seemingly in a haze.

He took a moment to respond, looking over her weary form. In that moment, he swore he was getting her the hell out of here.

“Good night, Scarlett.”

She hummed contentedly, soon drifting off into sleep, purring softly as she did so. Stiles didn’t sleep at all. He never could without his pillow.


	2. Head First, Eyes Closed, Can't Lose

Eventually, the bright lights were shut off, surrounding him in darkness. The action sent a pang of fear through him, before he realised it was merely for sleep. The entire room was silent, aside from Scarlett’s purring and indistinct mumbling in her sleep. Occasionally, he would hear a cage rattle as someone turned in their sleep, but other than that, he was all alone to wallow in his fear.

The harsh lights returned after hours and hours of waiting. Stiles had tried scheming and planning within the time, but there was hardly anything he could do with his limited materials and knowledge. So, he decided that recruiting the others was the best course of action.

As the lights struck, Stiles heard several groans and whines of the other captives waking. He could feel his cage rattling due to the commotion below him. Then there was a sudden spike in rattling coming from Scarlett’s cage. He looked over to see her still fast asleep.

“Hey- new guy,” came a voice from beneath Scarlett, “help me out here? We need to wake her up before they do.”

Stiles gazed down to see the blond boy with the monkey tail speaking to him with wide eyes as he shook the girl’s cage. He caught on, scrambling up to shake the cage from where he could, also trying to coax her out of sleep with his voice.

“Eeerrgh…” Scarlett grumbled, throwing her arm to clutch at the cage side to stop the shaking.

“Scarlett- Scarlett come on,” the blond boy pleaded, “we don’t have much time.”

Stiles observed the boy, trying to poke his fingers into her cage to prod her awake. There was so much worry in his eyes, and he took it on as his own, already feeling protective of Scarlett. Just as he could tell the other boy was.

“I hate doing this,” the blond boy spoke through gritted teeth, “she looks so peaceful. Like she doesn’t know where she is.”

After a few more prods from the boy, and shakes from Stiles’ side, Scarlett rolled over until her back hit the other side of the cage and threw her limbs out in front in a bizarre stretch. Slowly, her eyes would droop open and closed. Stiles watched her carefully, trying to pull herself out of the slump.

“Her meds make her really drowsy,” the boy answered for him, noticing his interest, “it’s better we wake her up than the shock does.”

Stiles nodded in understanding, looking the boy over. He was clad in the same tight underwear as Stiles, but in a cream colour, matching his tail and hair. His collar seemed too tight, and he struggled to breathe.

“That’s uh- That’s good of you. Looking out for her.” He finally spoke, glancing back to see the girl still bringing herself out of her stupor, occasionally needing another rattle from below.

“We look after each other,” the boy responded, leaning back in his cage and keeping an eye on Scarlett, “the best we can under these conditions, that is. So, you got a name, new guy?”

“Gooood MORNIN’ VIETNAM!” Scarlett interrupted, officially awake.

Stiles smirked at her before returning his attention to the boy, “Stiles.”

“Nice to meet you, Stiles. I’m Brad.”

“He’s named Brad because he’s seventy five percent rad.” Scarlett interrupted again with a stifled yawn, causing both Stiles and Brad to snicker.

“Doesn’t that mean he’s also seventy five percent bad?” Stiles pointed out jokingly.

“What can I say, he’s got a dark side.” She defended, sitting up and stretching again.

It astounded Stiles that she could bring a little joy into their waking moments even in this place. As he and Brad chuckled and shook their heads in amusement, he thought perhaps his usual self could also prevail after two weeks here. Not that he would be there that long. He was getting them all out of there, long before two weeks.

“Hey- hey Jo,” she called out suddenly, leaning into the corner of her cage to better face the girl under Stiles, “what’d you dream about last night?”

The girl, apparently named Jo, picked herself up from the floor and moved to sit at the back of her cage. Her bunny ears twitched slightly, sitting tall atop her head.

“Pretty sure I’ve won this one, dude,” she began, rubbing the sleep from her eyes, “Robots, tsunamis, and heroic axe murderers.”

Stiles looked on in confusion, watching Scarlett click her tongue in defeat, “Dammit, that’s a good one.”

“You know it.” Jo responded smugly, completing the sentiment with finger guns.

“Alright, well I’ll see your tales of unlikely heroes through adversity, and raise you hotel-prison-asylums.”

“I like the sounds of that one,” Brad interjected, “wonder what it could mean. But I’m torn. Stiles, what’s your take on it?”

“Ooooh, new guy gets the deciding vote!” Jo squealed in anticipation.

Stiles glanced around frantically at the three of them, profoundly confused, yet amused. He was almost impressed at how they decided to entertain themselves.

“Uh- I’m a bit of a sucker for robot stories, so I’ll go with Jo’s.” He finally answered, hoping that was the answer they were looking for.

“Yes!” The girl near shouted, rocking back from her knees to her back, raising her firsts in victory.

“Aw, come on, you got lucky.” Scarlett defended hastily.

“Luck’s got nothing to do with it, my friend,” Jo replied with a grin, “What’s the score now, Brad?”

“Jo has just pulled ahead, bringing the score to a tight seven to eight,” the boy feigned a commentator’s voice joyously, “Now go on and explain in what vague detail you can. Best articulation wins bonus points.”

With that, Scarlett went on to describe her strange dream (Stiles would call it a nightmare) avidly while the other two listened in intently. Stiles took the time to stretch his vision down the line of cages to assess the other captives. A few seemed as depressed as he would have expected, sitting with their knees to their chests silently, while others were softly hitting their heads into the cages.

Brad, Scarlett, and Jo seemed to be the select few who were dealing with the situation differently. He wouldn’t say they were dealing with it well, if anything their reactions were wildly inappropriate. They all did seem a bit strange though, mentally scarred if their copious amounts of meds were anything to go by. Presumably, Jo and Brad were the first two here according to their positions, so would have had plenty of time to adjust. But Scarlett would have been just before Stiles. She remained a mystery to him.

He wondered how Scott was doing, if he had noticed he was gone yet, what clues he had managed to leave behind when he was taken. Stiles could barely even remember being taken. He thinks he was leaving school, having just said goodbye to Scott and leaping into his Jeep. Obviously, he didn’t make it far before the darkness took over. And then he was here.

As his memories came back to him, he realised that he and Scott had seen this coming. He remembered noticing a car following him over the course of a few weeks. He noticed strange adult figures lurking around the school and his neighbourhood. He had called Scott every time, but they were long gone by the time he ever got there. Scott tried desperately to track them down, but was ultimately unsuccessful. At least he had a vague clue as to why Stiles was missing. Stiles prayed to any god that he would find him, that his dad wouldn’t lose his mind looking for him…that he wouldn’t be sold.

“Hey, Stiles, you okay there?” Scarlett pulled him out of his thoughts, “they’re gonna be taking us to the bathroom soon. I would warn you not to try anything stupid but I doubt that would stop you.”

He shook his head out of the memories, sitting up again to face Scarlett, “That’s probably a good call.”

“And in case you were wondering, the robots were the bad guys. Well, it wasn’t quite so black and white, but that’s the main gist of it. And axe murderers tend to have quite interesting pasts.”

“Yeah, you would know, Scarlett.” Jo called out devilishly.

“Okay, for the last time, that was a one-time thing!”

Stiles didn’t bother asking.

He briefly considered eating the food from last night, seeing as the others were already on to breakfast, but the sickness that that thought conjured was far worse than his hunger. So he sat there and waited for phase one of his plan to commence. Today was purely for observational purposes. He would watch closely and carefully how the captors went about taking them to the bathroom, inspecting with as much attention to detail as he could in order to find a window of opportunity. They would have to make a mistake. He just hoped that the pattern was predictable. The way Scarlett spoke about the proceedings made them seem scheduled and precise, just like he needed.

Stiles couldn’t bring himself to take the Adderall either, knowing they must have spiked it with something. Soon enough, light began dripping down the staircase facing the cages as he listened to two doors opening with a drudged noise. He tried his hardest to keep his heart beat steady, knowing the captors were alpha werewolves and could hear and smell his anxiety. He refused to let them have that victory.

Two alphas stepped into the light coming from behind the doors with lofty footsteps. A woman and a man, both incredibly tall and buff, approached Scarlett’s cage first. Stiles struggled beyond belief to not bring attention to himself, to not yell and scream at the alphas to leave her alone and let them out. Instead, he bit his tongue so hard that the pain was the only thing keeping him from exploding. He let his anger boil over as he watched their expressionless faces closely.

He didn’t need to be a werewolf to feel the fear and rage rolling off the teens below him. But he told himself that was a good sign. Those two emotions, stirred together just enough, could spark all the planned commotion he needed to escape.

The woman brought her thumb up to the front of Scarlett’s cage. Stiles couldn’t see what was happening, but she seemed to be using a fingerprint system to unlock the boundaries. His attention was divided reluctantly between the alphas, and Scarlett poorly masking her fear.

“Hey there, guys,” she eventually choked out, holed up to the back of her cage, “long time no see. Did you get new…arms?”

Brad snickered softly, but covered it with a cough after receiving a glare from the woman.

“Get out of the cage.” She finally spoke, firm and dry.

“You know what, I think I actually quite like it here. Sorry about all the fuss getting in, but I think I’ve settled quite nicely, don’t yOU-” Her nervous rambling was cut off abruptly when the woman yanked on the chain of her collar, effectively dragging her out of the cage and onto the floor.

The girl barely had enough time to catch herself, but managed to land on all fours, tail wagging wildly. Then she was promptly dragged away, babbling and gurgling as she tried to get a hold of the chain to stop it from choking her. Within seconds, she was pulled along the staircase, and through the doors, which were quickly closed.

Stiles let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding, fumbling to get a look at Brad and Jo. It didn’t make sense, they were just taking her to the bathroom. Why was she so scared? He tried so hard to withhold his anger, but couldn’t stop himself from slamming his fist into the cage wall.

“What just happened? Why was she so scared?” He growled through gritted teeth over the rattling of the metal.

Brad and Jo looked to each other, exchanging sombre looks. Neither answered him.

“Guys? Guys! What are they doing to her?!”

His attention was diverted to the doors slamming open again. Fear crashed over him in sweats and he couldn’t contain himself anymore, he couldn’t keep this up. Two new male alphas glided over the floor to open his cage swiftly, clearly expecting resistance from the new captive.

Quickly, Stiles gripped the top of his cage and swung himself so that his feet were launching directly into both of their faces, knocking them over immediately. He could hear several grumbles coming from behind him; some of support, some of warning, and two of pain and rage. He blocked them out, stumbling back to his feet with his usual amount of grace. Electricity surged through him the whole time, but he flailed on, rough determination all over his face and movements.

He made it up the staircase with his lanky limbs, only falling down once when the shocks got too much. He could see the light from the rest of the building outside of the cage complex. There were so many doors, so much open space, he could make it, he just had to run and run and run and-

Stiles toppled to the floor boorishly, the air being ripped from his lungs. One of the alphas had pulled out a baton and knocked him straight off his feet. They flopped him onto his back so that he could see no longer two, but five furious faces staring down at him. _Shit_.

He went to throw a punch, but was stopped when one of them yanked him by the collar towards a door. He was tossed into the room forcefully, coming face to face with yet another alpha, flashing his eyes red and baring his fangs.

Stiles struggled to catch his breath, having just experienced about ten different intense emotions at the same time and in rapid succession. He had risen to his knees by the time that he could control his breathing enough to stutter out a sentence.

“Kinda over doing it there, don’t you think?” he continued huffing, backing away from the man, “I mean I get it. Big, bad Alpha. Starting to make me think you guys are overcompensating for something.”

The werewolf growled lowly, stalking over to Stiles as he tried to hobble away. He was lifted carelessly by the throat to face the man as he spat his instructions.

“If you value your life, you’re going to crawl over to those stalls, do your business, then wait by the door, little fox. Am I clear?”

“Crystal.” Stiles choked in response before he was hurled across the room in the direction of the stalls.

He stopped to cough briefly, but was prompted by another growl to do as he was told. The stalls were surprisingly clean and Stiles almost felt like not pissing would be all the rebellion he could get in today. But even he knew that wasn’t a good idea.

He realised this was the closest to privacy he was ever going to get here; the bathroom stall. But he wasn’t going to break, not yet. He wasn’t going to cry to himself in the bathroom stall…not yet. Instead, he examined the contents of the room, searching for anything he could use as a tool or a weapon. There were the standards, obviously; toilet paper, toilet brush, sanitary bin. He could maybe even break off the door and use it as a barricade at some point. There was hand soap and sanitiser outside at the trough-like sink. That could be used to blind them.

“Hurry up!” The alpha outside barked, shaking Stiles from his scheming.

He flushed quickly, before hastily cleaning his hands, wanting to get the hell out of here and back to his god-forsaken cage. He needed to check on Scarlett. So, he approached the man hesitantly, shaking with each step. He flinched as the alpha gripped the back of his neck harshly, pushing him out the door and guiding him into another room.

“H-Hey wait- where are we going now?” Stiles tried to ask, stuttering over his words as he was awkwardly half-dragged across the foyer.

Yet again, he was tossed through a door. He squeezed his eyes shut as he was launched into the room. When he opened them again after a few moments of regaining his breath on the tiled floor, he sat up slowly, raising his eyes to see a beta werewolf looking down on him. His hair was styled in a blonde quiff and he was clad in all black, hands on his hips and a shit-eating grin on his face.

Stiles tried to rise from the floor finally but was shoved back onto it with a foot between his shoulder blades. He turned his head to the side quickly to avoid having it pummelled into the ground again. When he did, he caught sight of the wall, completely covered in shelves and hooks displaying the largest array of sex toys Stiles could even imagine. _Shit_. It all made horrid sense now.

“Hey there, foxy boy,” the beta began speaking, “nice to meet you. I think we’re gonna get along real well, don’t you?”

He leant down to whisper the last part close to Stiles’ face, using his strength to pin him to the ground with a hand around the nape of his neck. At this point, Stiles was already covered in small cuts and bruises, and it had only been a few minutes. He could tell it was only going to get worse.

There were a few moments of silence where the beta basked in the sound of the human’s nervous breathing, before he yanked him upwards and pressed his back against a solitary bench in the centre of the room, still holding him by the throat.

“You’re a pretty one, aren’t you?” He mewled.

“I prefer the term ‘shockingly average’, personally.” Stiles quipped back, gulping.

“Oh, you think you’re funny?” the beta laughed faintly, “I do always love the sarcastic ones. We’re gonna have a lot of fun here, you and I.”

“You’re going to address me as master, nothing else. You don’t even deserve to know my name.” He growled, pushing the boy further against the bench ending mid-way up his back.

“Well, that’s a bit harsh-” Stiles squeaked as he was choked a little harder and winced, shutting his eyes, “Yep- Okay, okay.”

“Wrong answer.”

Stiles opened one eye, peeking at the man curiously.

“Yes…Master?”

“Good boy,” He muttered contently, releasing his throat, “Turn around. If you even think about running I’ll make you regret it.”

Stiles ran.

 

 


	3. Keep The Change, You Filthy Animal

The beta didn't even stop Stiles from dodging around him and sprinting past. At first, Stiles was too caught up in his panic to take notice of this, but soon realised why. He had reached the exit, scrambling for a way out, when he found the doorknob had completely retracted into the door, leaving no possible escape route.

Upon his realisation, he felt the beta's eyes burning into his back, and perfectly predicted the smug smirk adorning his face. With his back still to the man, he stood straight and took in a deep breath.

"Let me out." He demanded.

"Interesting tactic, little boy," the man spoke condescendingly, finally lunging at Stiles and forcing him against the door by the nape of his neck, "but I don't think so."

With no further warning, he was manhandled back to the bench. His captor bent him over so that he was lying by his stomach with his feet still planted to the ground, before securing him in place with cuffs built in to the bench, his hands trapped on one side and his feet spread apart on the other. In a stroke of fear, Stiles realised he had been rendered completely and utterly helpless to the man behind him. No matter how much he struggled, there was no budging the restraints, and he was incapable of turning his head far enough to see the man. Then he felt him pressing against his lower half, reaching a hand down his back to grasp his hair. 

"We do usually expect some resistance from the new ones, so it's pretty normal. But this level of defiance? Oh, no, this needs to be beaten out of you."

Pulling on his hair harshly, Stiles bit back a groan, though the werewolf seemed to hear it anyway as he chuckled. Then, with this free hand, he tore away the only article of clothing that Stiles had been left with before proceeding to massage the newly exposed cheeks in his hands.

"But then again," he yanked Stiles' head upwards, leaning down to whisper hotly in his ear, "some buyers like a whore with some fight left in 'em."

Harshly, he lands the first strike on Stiles' behind as he pulls away completely, eliciting a sharp hiss from his captive's lips.

"We'll have to start with your punishment for trying to run." The beta continued, his voice growing slightly distant, which Stiles assumed meant he made a move for the wall.

Stiles was left in an unbearable silence, not knowing what the man with all the power was doing behind him. All he could hear was quiet breathing, and the occasional sound of the man grasping an object. He began to regret trying to escape, but immediately dismissed the thought. He would never stop trying. 

There was no warning before the first blow landed. Stiles jolted forwards, instinctively away from what felt like a flogger, but to no avail. The second blow was just as hard as the first and Stiles groaned in pain. This seemed to please the beta as he hummed in approval.

He continued flogging the boy mercilessly until the pain had blended into one continuous sting. It was at this point that Stiles began to admit to himself just how fucked he was. Scarlett was just before him and she had already been here for two weeks. At that rate, it would be  _four entire months_ before the last eight joined them. Four months of being at the disposal of these werewolves- or, if he was feeling optimistic, four months to hatch an escape plan. Either way, there would be more of this torture, and lots of it.

When the flogging finally ended, Stiles' tongue was almost bleeding from biting it so hard to stop himself from begging. The beta gave his ass an appreciative rub before he withdrew his touch again, leaving the boy a panting mess. 

"Right, now that that's done, let's take a look at your file," He announced and Stiles listened to the sound of paper rustling and movement around the room.

"Nice to meet you- what in the hell?- uh, Stiles Stilinski. Bisexual, in the mid-sub range, yada yada. ADHD, yeah that makes sense." he rambled to himself, scanning down the boy's file as he paced the room, "Oh would you look at this? Son of the Sheriff and best friend to the True Alpha. My, my, quite a valuable one you are."

"How- How do you know all that?" Stiles couldn't stop himself from asking.

The man chuckled in response, "We do our research, sweetie."

He heard something being scribbled down on the file before it was seemingly put away, and the man had his hands on him yet again.

"Okay, so we'll start off simple, just working you open and gradually increasing what you can take."

The words sent a horrid chill down his spine as he was left in silence again, unknowing of what the man was doing. This was it. He was going to be used and beaten and humiliated. But not broken. He wouldn't allow it. 

It wasn't long until he heard the snap of a glove and the squirt of a bottle. His mind was void of its usual racing thoughts for once, but he was no where near calm. 

The first intrusion was cold and startling. Stiles felt the digit enter all the way to the knuckle as he pulled away futilely. He refused to beg. He refused. 

"Stop." He tried demanding, again.  

"Careful there, little fox," the beta tsked in warning, "you don't want to be punished again do you?"

He added another finger. Stiles yelped.

"Answer me." He spoke firmly, his spare hand resting on one of Stiles' cheeks.

"...no." 

"No, who?" The man reprimanded him, strengthening his grip on the still burning skin.

"No, Master." Stiles finally answered, hissing at the discomfort.

"Good boy." He concluded, plunging a third finger into the boy.

It was at this point that Stiles couldn't hold back the tears any longer. They spilled over his eyelids, streaming down his cheeks rapidly. The torture continued for what felt like hours, the man increasing the size of the intrusion every ten minutes or so until he felt like he was being impaled. He had eventually moved on to an array of dildos and butt plugs- a few of them even vibrating- and had apparently forgotten the importance of lube. By the end, Stiles was a gasping, crying, sweaty heap, straining desperately against his restraints. The beta left the largest vibrating plug deep inside him before leaving the room without a word. 

Stiles was completely wrecked and exhausted. He was unwillingly stretched open, reluctantly whimpering, and left to suffer on that god-forsaken bench, while his friends and father were probably going mad looking for him. He wasn't sure he would ever get used to the shame that wrenched around his throat. 

After another ten minutes, the beta entered the room again, which Stiles barely even noticed due to the overwhelming sensations he was battling with. He felt a sudden relief crash over him when the vibrations came to a halt. His body had gone completely lax, so when the beta released him from the restraints, he was far too exhausted to do anything about it.

Without any resistance, he was dragged over to the back wall, where his collar was then chained and he slumped to the floor. He watched closely as his captor placed a tray in front of him, holding a sandwich, apple, and water bottle. 

"You're not leaving this room until the entire tray is empty. And don't even  _think_ about taking that plug out."

"...wouldn't dream of it." Stiles muttered to himself sarcastically as the man left again.

After thoroughly inspecting the food, and eventually accepting that he was about to be at least somewhat drugged, he took a bite. Not only was he determined to get back to Scarlett, but he also wanted to get the fuck out of that room. 

When he had finished and the man entered again, smirking at his wrecked appearance, he found himself being handcuffed, gagged, and forced into a new pair of underwear. After being unchained from the wall, his body was loftily tossed over the man's shoulder and thankfully out of the room. Before he knew it, he was back in his cage again, Scarlett in his peripheral vision. Strangely, the man placed a pair of large headphones over his ears before shutting the cage door and leaving the two alone. 

Stiles looked over to Scarlett in concern, wondering if she had been through the same thing. The girl was slumped in the corner of her cage, trying frantically to wipe the tears from her face with her shoulder. The task was quite difficult without hands. She was in the exact same restraints as he was, and also wearing headphones. All he could do was send her an empathetic look, but she didn't seem to want to meet his eyes. 

He flinched in surprise when a deep voice rumbled through his headphones.

" _Audio training and instructions for hybrid sex slaves; lesson one."_

Each lesson seemed to be an hour long. Stiles made it through four lessons before it ended. He watched as one by one, the other humans were returned to their cages, all sharing the same defeated grimace. He tried zoning out, drifting away in thought, letting his concentration waver, which he was always good at. Anything to not have to listen to the grating voice talking down at him, telling him his body wasn't his anymore and how to be a good, submissive slave. But every time he appeared even vaguely distracted, they would send another shock through his collar, and sometimes through the plug still left in him. 

Stiles wishes he could say listening to training wasn't as bad as what came before it, but the repetition was killing him. He wasn't even allowed to look bored- which made him realise, they were conditioning him. They were conditioning him to obey, and be quiet. They were breaking him both physically and psychologically, using him like he meant nothing and then telling him he was nothing. For some reason, he felt even more violated by the intrusion into his mind than by his body being assaulted. 

When the fourth lesson had finally finished, the voice stopped. Stiles felt like he had been dragged through hell and back, and all his emotions were running on high. He realised he didn't do nearly as much observing as he had hoped. He snapped his attention to the double doors again as four alphas entered, three holding boxes. The one leading them went by every cage, removing the handcuffs, headphones and ball gags, placing them each in their respective boxes. 

And finally, they were alone again.  When the alphas had left the room, a mass of the captives released a deep, combined breath of relief. Stiles whipped his head around, eyeing Jo, Brad and Scarlett. They all seemed just as exhausted as he was, Jo pulling at her hair, Brad too tired to stop her, and Scarlett curled into a tight ball in the corner of her cage, refusing to meet anyone's eyes. 

"Scarlett," Stiles reluctantly broke the silence, "is it...is it over?"

She rose her head slowly, averting Stiles' eyes, "For today, yeah, basically."

She ran a calloused hand through her hair nervously and rested her elbows on her parted knees, scanning the floor of her cage solemnly. She seemed to be trying to gather the will to look him in the eyes.

"Just showers left," she managed to choke out, finally meeting his gaze with hollow eyes, "Same thing everyday; forced awake at eight, given an hour for breakfast and to be taken to the bathroom. Then four hours prac, half an hour for lunch, four hours theory, hour for dinner, then showers, then lights out at ten. I stole a glance at a clock, once."

She shrugged with the last part, seeming to perk up slightly every time she explained how she figured out how things work here. Stiles wondered why that was, maybe she was happy to be helping the new guy, since she was new not too long ago. Or maybe it just makes her feel more in control, aware of what's going on. Knowing as little as he did about the girl, he bet on the latter.

"Every day," Stiles echoed as he heard the troughs being filled with dinner, "every fucking day."

"Aside from open days." Scarlett reminded him.

"Oh yeah, my bad, I forgot about the slight variation of torture." He retorted, fiddling with his fingers.

Scarlett just rolled her eyes, turning to her food before downing her pills. She seemed to be side-eyeing him constantly as she ate, fidgeting like she had something else to say.

"What?" Stiles finally snapped. 

"I- uh," she hesitated before facing him again, eventually settling with letting her hair cover her face as she looked down, "Look, I don't wanna ask if you're okay, cause who the fuck would be, right? And I can tell you're mad that I didn't warn you, but, trust me, knowing beforehand wouldn't have made you any more prepared. I'm sorry this has happened to you, but it'll be over soon enough. There are only eight people left to go, and hopefully you'll be bought by someone a lot nicer than these shit-stains."

Stiles scanned her over incredulously as she still refused to look at him. He was fond of the girl, but after his day of horrors, his temper was off the charts.

" _Or_ , you could actually get off your ass and help me escape! I'm starting to think you've either just given up cause it was too hard, or you actually want to be some pervert werewolf's pet."

"Stiles, you don't understand, I've tried everything!" She defended herself quickly, whipping her head to stare surprisedly at her fellow captive.

"Have you tried the bathroom? Blinding them with the soap?"

"Yep, works for about a minute after they take it out. But they don't need sight to find you."

"Fine then, what about the bathroom stall door?"

"Didn't you notice that it didn't match the rest of the stall? I ripped off the original one, they tore it in half and used it against me."

"You could drug them wi-"

"I went a week without sleeping and tricked one of them into taking all my sleeping pills, and they hardly even swayed. Stiles, you don't get it, I've tried every fucking thing! I even grew out of my nails and managed to pick a lock they chained me up with. You wanna know how that ended?"

Stiles didn't think he wanted to know, but Scarlett was already shoving the back of her hand for him to see. The tips of her right fingers were all bandaged and still bloody. The insistent glare she was sending him from her still bruised eye only accentuated the point.

"They tore my nails off, Stiles. One. By. One," she withdrew her hand again, examining it herself, "I was lucky they didn't just chop my fingers right off, they were about to before some higher-up stopped them cause 'no one would want a deformed slave.' We can't win, Stiles, we're outnumbered by asshole supernatural creatures with inhuman strength and no concept of anger management."

With that she slumped back into the far corner of her cage, away from Stiles. He could see tears beginning to form in her eyes, dangerously close to spilling. 

"...Scarlett- I'm sorry." He tried to fumble out.

"And I've only been here for two weeks. Wanna know how long Jo's been in this hell hole? Six months, Stiles. You've been here for a day."

He looked down to see Jo nodding sadly, and Brad looking onto the argument, seemingly torn.

"And he doesn't even know about their auction rule." She muttered to the others.

"What? What auction rule?" He asked quickly, whipping his head between the three of them. 

Brad took a deep breath, "For auction, we have to have healed by then. If we anger them and end up injured, the auction gets held off until we don't look quite so injured and defective...for everyone."

"Shit- guys, I'm sorry, I didn't know."

"It's okay, Stiles," Jo interjected,"This is all new to you. It's always the worst at the beginning. You have every right to be upset."

"Did you guys know his dad's still alive? He even has friends. Werewolf friends." Scarlett informed the two.

"Wait, what?" Brad exclaimed in shock.

"But that's good, right? That means people are looking for you- and maybe they'll find us." Jo tried to be helpful.

"Yeah- yeah, you're right. They're gonna find us, don't worry. My dad's the Sheriff."

"Sheriff Stilinski?" Came a voice from the left of Brad, just out of Stiles' sight.

"Uh- yeah, that's him."

"I've heard of you. Scott McCall's best friend, the Sheriff's son." The voice continues lowly.

"You know Scott McCall?!" Brad exclaimed again.

"Don't get your hopes up," Scarlett's voice trailed back to the conversation, "no one's coming for us."

She muttered the last part darkly as two alphas came down the stairs and took her away to the showers. With Scarlett gone, Stiles could now see the boy in the cage next to Brad. He had dark black hair and fluffy husky ears. 

"Don't worry about Scarlett," Jo addressed Stiles, "she gets like that sometimes when she doesn't take her meds."

"But I just saw her take her meds." Stiles replied, scrunching his eyebrows together.

"Oh. Well, in that case, I don't know, man. That girl's got issues. And that's coming from me."

"Man, that's saying something." The still unknown boy commented.

"Sorry, who are you?" Stiles finally asked.

"Oh, right, sorry," he chuckled, "the name's Marty."

"Scarlett likes to say he's called that because he's 60 per cent art." Brad supplied.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Open day and Derek next chapter.


	4. Two Halves Of A Whole Idiot

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'M SO SORRY. This isn't even an actual chapter, but I feel bad for abandoning this fic for so long, so I thought I'd post what I had started a while ago. I think the fact that I've been away for so long due to being in and out of psych hospital, really reflects how many nutjobs are on this website. DEREK WILL BE IN THE NEXT CHAPTER- MORE COMING SOON...or eventually.

Stiles passed out for a few merciful hours of sleep that night. He was, however, rudely awoken by his aching muscles; sore from the pin-prick indents of the metal squares in his skin and the day’s events. He blinked away the sleep silently, gazing through the piercing darkness that flooded the room. He never expected to get much rest, so he was reluctantly grateful for the exhaustion.  
  
The still tired boy also did not expect to hear faint humming when he woke up. The noise was coming from the direction he assumed was Scarlett’s cage. The humming was soothing, but intermittently cut off by choked snivels.  
  
“Scarlett?” He interrupted. The noises ceased immediately, and Stiles could tell the girl was tense all over.  
  
“I’m sorry,” she finally spoke, timidly, “I didn’t mean to wake you.”  
  
“No- no it wasn’t you,” Stiles shook his head lazily, despite the darkness taking their vision, “Why are you awake? Did the sleeping pills not work?”  
  
Truthfully, he had no idea how sleeping pills functioned, or whether or not they could simply not work some nights. Upon her sigh, though, he assumed that was the case.  
  
“Yeah. Hey, man, about earlier today,” she changed the subject quickly, “I’m sorry I snapped at you like that. You didn’t deserve it. I guess I’m just jealous.”  
  
“No- It’s okay, I was out of line,” he responded over her awkward chuckle, “so, we’re good?”  
  
“We’re good,” the girl concluded, “We need to be united. None of us are going to make it through this with some semblance of sanity without-”  
  
She stopped her sentence abruptly, seemingly reluctant to finish it.  
  
“…without our friends.” Stiles finished for her.  
  
Scarlett chuckled again, her words coming out in bites, “Not used to that word, I guess.”  
  
The two both took a moment to settle in to more comfortable positions, their cages rattling slightly. Stiles could tell there was more she wanted to say on the topic, but knew it wouldn’t come if he pushed.  
  
“What’s it like?” She asked suddenly, “Like- you know…knowing that there are people out there. Looking for you.”  
  
“Oh- um,” Stiles tried to tread carefully on the topic, since it upset his friend last time, “Kind of reassuring. But at the same time, it’s terrifying. Cause like, what if they end up in trouble trying to find me? And it’s my fault? I wouldn’t be able to live with myself.”  
  
He shifted momentarily, rubbing the back of his neck before he could continue. Scarlett didn’t interrupt.  
  
“And it sucks being human when all your friends are supernaturally strong creatures. It’s like- I’m just the bait. The weak, frail, little human. So- as much as I’d love for them to come storming in here to rescue us all…”  
  
“You want to be able to rescue yourself.” Scarlett slowly nodded in understanding, “I get it. But Stiles, you have to know this isn’t your fault. It’s those bastards’ for taking you. You didn’t do anything to deserve this.”  
  
Stiles scoffed a little, not entirely believing her, “Thanks, dude. And Scott probably blames himself, for fuck’s sake.”  
  
“Well…let’s not waste our time with petty things like blame, then. Keep it simple; some assholes with every advantage against you, have done a horrible thing to you.”  
  
Stiles was silent at that, before fumbling over several beginnings to several unfinished protests. Because, ultimately, he knew she was right.  
  
“And you are in no way weak,” she continued, “There are god knows how many alpha werewolves out there with weapons and traps and money. Hell, they could have taken down your werewolf friends just as easily if they wanted to. And I don’t care if you don’t have supernatural strength, you’re smart and perseverant, and nothing can break your spirit. That’s strength. Human strength. You have something they never will; humanity.”  
  
“Shit, man,” Stiles managed to mutter, “that is some straight up wisdom. You sure you weren’t a philosopher or something in a past life?”  
  
It was too dark to see, but Stiles could easily predict the look Scarlett was giving him for his snark.  
  
“What about your family?” She asked hesitantly after a few beats of silence.  
  
“Oh god,” Stiles remembered his father, “My dad, he’s probably going out of his freakin’ mind. I can’t just leave him like this. We- We’re kind of all each other has. Since my mum died, that is. I have to get out of here.”  
  
He muttered the last part to himself. Scarlett stayed silent.  
“What about you?” He asked her instead.  
  
“Stiles-”  
  
“Yeah, yeah, I know. Must reach at least level nine or whatever to unlock tragic back story. C’mon man, I must be at level three at least by now. I think that entitles me to a sliver of information.”  
  
“Ugh, fine,” she sighed, “I never met my father, my mother was an alcoholic. I ran away.”  
  
“Oh- Uh, sorry? But thanks for telling me.”  
  
“Hey, you asked for it. Now I don’t have to be uncomfortably sympathetic about your dead mum, and you don’t have to be about my Cinderella story.”  
  
“Fair enough.” Stiles snickered, quirking an eyebrow.


End file.
